The Teratogenic Effect
by the morrighan
Summary: New discoveries harbor old secrets, but can they all be unraveled in time?
1. Chapter 1

The Teratogenic Effect

Cream.

The gravy was thick. Globs splattering the plate as the gooey liquid covered the chicken-fried steak. The food was savagely stabbed with a fork. Cut with a knife. A smaller piece was impaled by the fork. Lifted up from the plate. The off-white gravy spilled a little as it smothered the piece of meat. The aroma tickled John Sheppard's nose as he moved the fork towards his waiting mouth.

His attention was solely on the food instead of on his dining companion. Rodney McKay was explaining his latest theory of quantum mechanics and interstellar travel, his words flowing one after the other as his own food was temporarily neglected. The beef has just touched John's open lips. The tip of his tongue has just caught a taste of the thick gravy when the cries of a fussy baby reached his ears. He sighed. Lowered his fork and looked across the cafeteria.

A woman was bearing down on him, anger on her face, in her stride as she pushed the stroller in front of her. His wife. Long brown hair trapped in a ponytail. Her green and brown BDUs snug on her curvy form. His infant son was upset, whining. Little hands balled into fists, little face screwed in a petulant expression. "John!" Moira Sheppard called. Her sharp tone almost made Rodney jump as he halted in mid-sentence.

"Moira? What's wrong with–" John began amiably.

"Here!" She parked the stroller next to him.

"Gaga! Gaga goo!" the baby cried, reaching and pouting. Big blue eyes full of tears.

John leaned over to lift the baby to his arms. "What's wrong, junior?"

"He wants you, John! He's been fussing for over an hour now! I can't get any work done! We are splicing the chromosomes and running a comparison of the genetic composition of each slightly different species and I can't do that with a baby wailing in my ear! Nothing pleases him! He's fed, he's dry, he's clean but he keeps whining on about you, so here! Where the hell have you been all morning?" she fumed.

John blinked at her diatribe, said mildly, "we just got back from a test run of the Jumper's new–"

"He would have loved that, John! It would have made him happy!" she fumed, hands on her hips now as she regaled her husband. Gaze wandering over his black t-shirt, blue pants, double straps of his holster snug on his thigh. Simple attire, yet extremely attractive on the form they encompassed.

"Easy, Moira," John soothed, gently bouncing the baby in his arms. "Have a seat and grab a–"

"I don't have time! Watch your son for an hour, colonel! Can you at least manage that?" she snapped. Rodney stared at her. The baby was happy, gurgling in his father's arms.

"Okay, sweetheart," John agreed.

Moira sighed. Brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face that had somehow escaped her ponytail. "Sorry, John. It's just been one of those days. If you need me or he needs me I'll be in bio." She patted the diaper bag on the stroller. "Everything he needs is in here. Thank you, John." She moved away. Returned. Kissed the baby. Kissed John, her lips brushing softly along his. "You two behave yourselves." She glanced at Rodney who was still staring. "Hi Rodney."

"Uh, hi?" the scientist responded cautiously.

John watched her leave. Her purposeful stride making her ponytail swing back and forth in time to her hips. He gently bounced his son on his lap, looked at his friend who was staring after Moira as well.

"Wow," Rodney commented.

"Yeah, I know. When she walks fast like that my heart skips a beat," John noted.

"Not that! Although..." Rodney smirked at John's suddenly narrowed gaze. "What? You said it, not me. Geez, I guess the wrath of Sheppard has been inherited!"

"Apparently." John set his son back into the stroller. "All right, buddy, let me eat my lunch first, okay? Here." He gave the baby a toy. Turned to finally lift the fork and insert the food into his mouth at last. To find the food was cold. He ate anyway. The baby chortled, watching his father. Little hands clasping the stroller's padding.

Rodney shook his head, asked round a mouthful, "what do you think set her off like that? The kid?" Rodney eyed the baby. The infant was clad in a little blue shirt, blue jeans. Dark disordered hair the mirror image of his father. The baby smiled at him, drooling a little.

John shrugged. "Could be anything." He glanced at his son. Grabbed a napkin and wiped the baby's face. The baby grinned at him. Babbled as he looked at Rodney, suddenly began to prattle non-stop. "He likes you today."

"Today? He likes me every day!" Rodney retorted. Glanced at the baby. "Of course he likes me. He senses I'm a scientist. We'll make him into one yet."

"No. He's going to be fighter pilot. Aren't you, Johnny? Zoom zoom!" John tickled the baby's tummy. The baby laughed, catching his father's fingers.

"We don't need another one of those, John. But we always need more scientists. Especially with his double whammy of that gene. Can you imagine what he could–"

"Yes, I could, only too well! That's why it's hands off Ancient tech for now."

Rodney considered. "You know, John, I'm testing the back-up systems, running simulations and I could use a ZPM charger to–"

"I said no, Rodney. My son is not the Energizer bunny!" John finished, stood. "Let's go, junior. We've got work to do." He wheeled the baby along the cafeteria, eliciting smiles and sighs. He paused at a table. The baby chortled, waving his little hands in the air. Prattling once more.

Carson Beckett smiled. "Ah, how is wee Sheppard today, my lad? About time for a check-up, isn't it?" The baby stared, momentarily enchanted by the Scottish accent.

"Is it?" John asked, eying his son. "He's fine, doc," he assured.

"Even so, Moira's bringing him in next week. Just to be certain. And to spend some time with your Uncle Carson, laddie." He tickled the baby's tummy. The infant gurgled, smiling.

"Yeah, okay, doc. Next week." John wheeled the baby out of the cafeteria. Relaxing as the infant's fussy mood had dissipated. He crossed the control room. Parked the stroller at the foot of the stairs. "Here we go, captain." He lifted the baby, carried him up the steps. The baby held onto his father, staring round, prattling softly. John reached a door, knocked. Opened it. "Got a minute?"

Elizabeth Weir smiled, looking up from a pile of reports on her desk. "For you two, of course!" She indicated a chair. Self-consciously tucked back a curl of dark hair behind her ear. She folded her arms on the desk, pushing the pile of reports aside.

John smiled. The baby quieted, staring round. John sat, noting the change in his son. "Next week's mission roster. Phillips can't go, he's got a sprained ankle. I replaced him with Collins. Teyla is going to accompany them as she has had dealings with those people before. Amicable."

"Oh. All right. I'll make a note of it. So...how is Johnny?" She smiled at the infant.

"Fine. The usual, you know," he replied, gently bouncing the baby on his legs. But the infant was silent, touching his father's shirt. Little fingers clutching at the black t-shirt. He frowned, fingers clumsy as he felt his father's dog tags under the fabric. Trying to clutch at them. "He's got a check-up next week and I'd like to be there. Not that anything's wrong with him but still I want to be there. Keep an eye on him, you know. But he's in perfect health, is fine."

"Yes, he seems fine. A bit quiet, though."

"He wasn't a minute ago," John commented. Eyes on his son again. The infant met his gaze, big blue eyes oddly solemn until he smiled at his father. John smiled in return. The baby gurgled, stuck out his tongue. John did the same. The baby giggled, grinned, mouth forming an "o" shape. John mimicked him, seemingly forgetting he had an audience.

The baby chortled in delight. "Gaga, goo!" he exclaimed.

"Johnny, goo!" John echoed, chuckling. The baby laughed, as if that was the funniest thing in the world. But grew quiet suddenly, sucking on his lower lip. John looked up to see Elizabeth watching, seemingly entranced at the nearly wordless exchange between father and son. "Anyway, it's sometime next week," he stated, oddly embarrassed by having the moment witnessed.

"Do you know which day?" she asked, as if the spell had been broken. Straightening in her chair and adopting a more professional mien.

"No. I'll have to ask Moira." He stood, suddenly uncomfortable. "I'll have those reports ready by five, or six. I'm almost caught up. And I'll have the evaluations done by then too, unless junior here has other ideas."

"Okay, John. There's no rush. Take your time."

John blinked. "Are you okay? You've never said that to me before."

Elizabeth laughed. "I haven't? Well, you've never held a baby before, I guess."

"Ah. Well..." Not knowing what else to say John left. He carried the baby down the stairs to the stroller. The baby started to prattle again, all smiles, looking past his father. John followed his son's gaze to see Evan Lorne and a woman passing. They smiled at the happy infant. "Major."

"Colonel," Evan rejoined amiably. He moved to a console. The woman followed, touched it. Activating the power as it gently, hummed, responding to her.

John looked at his son. "What's this, junior?" He set his son into the stroller, wheeled him to a transporter. Wheeled him out and down a hallway. The baby quieted as people passed. John noted it, curious. "I wonder what your mother would make of your behavior."

"Gaga goo! Gaga goo!" the baby insisted, as if trying to make a point. Little arms waving in the air as he bounced in the stroller.

"Yeah, whatever, buddy. Dada. Dada, okay? Get it right, son."

The baby began to prattle again as he was wheeled into the bio lab. Waved his little arms in the air. "Mama! Mama goo mama!" he called.

Moira turned from her data screen, smiled as John wheeled the baby to her. "Wow, John! You certainly altered his mood. How are you, darling?"

"Mama goo!"

"It wasn't me, well not entirely. Moira...I..." he glanced round as the other biologists resumed their work. "Moira," he said again, voice quieter, "I think our son is a snob."

"What?" She knelt at the stroller, kissed the baby. "Are you a snob, darling? I don't think so! How could you be a snob?"

"I'm serious, Moira. The way he reacts to people. He loves people with the ATA gene. If they don't have it he goes all quiet," John explained.

Moira met his gaze, disbelief in her brown eyes. "Oh come on, John! How would he possibly know? I'm sure it's just a coincidence. The people he knows best just happen to have the ATA gene, that's all."

"Really? Well, he was all quiet in Weir's office. But when Lorne passed he prattled like he does to Rodney or Carson, and Johnny doesn't know Lorne that well." Seeing her reaction, sorrow and uncertainty passing across her face he added, "sorry, Moira. I didn't mean anything by that. I'm just saying he's reacting to the gene. I swear! Is it possible because he's...strong in the Force?" John used the code words as they were keeping the fact that the baby had a double ATA gene a secret except for a select few who knew.

Moira stood. "I don't see how, John. We'll have to ask Carson but that seems highly improbable."

"I've got more reports to do. He's all yours for now." John turned, took a few steps away from the stroller. But the baby started to fuss and cry.

"John, wait!" Moira called.

John returned, eyed his son who was reaching for him. Big blue eyes filling with tears. "What's wrong now, junior? Not enough time with me?"

"Apparently not. He's all yours, John."

"I can't, Moira," John retorted, gaze wandering along the white coat she wore. "I've got new recruits to train and he can't be in the armory, now can he?" He leaned, kissed the top of the baby's head. "Sorry, son, but you're too young yet." John met her gaze, quirked a brow. "Did I ever tell you how sexy you are in a lab coat? Of course you'd have to be naked underneath it."

Before she could protest he smiled, turned and headed for the doorway.

Moira smiled, but sighed as the baby began to fuss again. Staring after his father, whimpering.

Little hands reaching. "Gaga! Gaga goo! Dada!" he suddenly cried.

John whirled, surprised. Smiled broadly at the biologists. He strode to his son. Lifted him out of the stroller. "About time, junior!" he beamed. "Did you hear that, Moira? Did everyone hear that?" he boasted.

"Gaga goo!"

Moira laughed with the others at John's crestfallen expression. "Not yet, I'm afraid, but close. Take him, John, please. For some reason he wants his father today." She kissed the baby. "Be good for daddy, Johnny. Keep him out of trouble."

John sighed. "Fine. We'll back in one hour. One. Let's go, junior." He set the baby into the stroller, wheeled him out of the lab. "The things I have to do for you, buddy," he jested. The baby prattled, happy once more. Moira watched them go, amused.


	2. Chapter 2

The Teratogenic Effect2

Moira wiped her brow, sat back and sighed. "Not again. This isn't making any sense! What the hell are we missing?" she asked, looking round the mostly empty room. She glared at the microscope. "Whatever these things are we cannot recreate them in the lab. Not even at a microscopic, cellular level, which tells me that we are missing something."

"The missing link?" Peter Harrison jested, but sighed as well. He ran a hand through his gray hair. "I don't know what it is either, Moira. We need Carson in on this again. Perhaps there is something in the human genome that we are missing. The arthropod direction is getting us no where. The enzymes, the proteins...whatever it is it must be at a chemical level."

"Whatever it is," she agreed. Sighed again. "All right. I'll collate and see if Carson has any new ideas. He knows more about this genetic stuff than we do...at least for the humans."

She stood. Gathered her data pad and headed for the infirmary. Wondered where John had taken the baby, but trusted in his care of the infant. She paused, seeing Evan heading towards her, talking on his earpiece. He saw her. Paused as well. Moira hesitated, resumed her steps as did Evan after a moment. "Um...hi."

"Hi," he rejoined, as awkward as she was . "Moira, how are things?"

"Fine. Everything's fine, Evan. You?"

"Fine. Ditched the kid, did you?"

Moira smiled. "Yes. He has no head for science yet. John has charge of him."

"Oh. Probably better than having Rodney yammering on about whatever." They shared a smile. A brief resumption of friendship before it faded into the awkwardness again. "Um, look, Moira...I need... I mean we should really–"

"I have to go to see Carson about this," she raised the data pad like a shield, and moved past him. Suddenly not ready for any confrontation, any words over the disruption of their friendship. She quickly entered the infirmary. "Carson! I need your input on this."

Carson turned, smiled. "All right, love, give us a tic here." He turned back to a patient.

John had just hoisted his son high in the air again when the comm unit blared to life. "Colonel Sheppard to the 'Gate room! Colonel Sheppard to the 'Gate room!"

John lowered his giggling son. "Shit, er, shoot, captain." He tapped his earpiece, switched the baby to his other arm before the infant could grab the device. "This is Sheppard, copy." He strode out of his quarters, met Ronon Dex in the hallway. The Satedan didn't even blink or raise a brow at the baby in his friend's arms.

"Colonel Sheppard, Reynolds and his team are returning from P1835K. Issued red status, coming in hot, sir," informed the voice in his ear.

"Understood. Switch to comm." He waited a moment. "Delta assemble at the 'Gate room." He sighed. "Your mother has the worst timing, did I ever tell you that?"

"Gaga! Gaga goo!" the baby gurgled.

"Whatever, buddy." He glanced at Ronon who was keeping stride with him. A smile on his face. "What?"

"Nothing. Here." He held out a P90. "Do you want me to take him?"

John took the weapon. "No, I've got him, thanks." John shifted the baby to his left arm, shifted the gun to his right hand. "Let's go." He strode into the control room. Presented an incongruous sight. P90 in one hand, baby wrapped in his other arm. "No, junior, stop it," he chided, as the baby tugged at the earpiece. "Better yet call your mother, would you?" He stepped to the glass wall overlooking the Stargate. "What have we got?" He set down the gun, transferred the baby to his right side again.

"Incoming, sir," a young man replied, trying not to smile. "Only one hostile reported before they cut transmissions."

"IDC verified!"

John watched the crack marine squad flank the 'Gate, weapons at the ready. Ronon joined them, big gun aimed at the dead center of the Stargate. "Delta, hold ready. Open the Iris." He gently bounced the baby as he watched the Iris collapse. The shimmering wormhole beckoned. He waited. Watching. Silence. Nothing but the waves of energy from the event horizon.

Suddenly the baby started to cry. Without any fussy preamble. Clutching at his father. "Whoa, whoa there, Johnny, ssh! What the hell?" John gently bounced the infant, kissed his cheek, eyed the Stargate. The baby's cries grew louder. Strident. Wailing.

John tapped his earpiece. "Citywide!" he ordered. "Moira! I need you ASAP! Control room!" he all but shouted over his son's piercing cries. "Ssh, ssh, Johnny, what's wrong?" Lasers pinged out of the wormhole. John instinctively shielded the child although he was perfectly safe behind the glass wall.

"John! John, what–" Moira shouted, running towards her husband and child.

"Take him!" John handed the infant over but had to extricate himself from the baby's firm grip. He gently pried the little fingers off his shirt. Turned his head to see Reynolds and his team come running through the 'Gate, falling and whirling to fire on whatever was chasing them. Bullets flew as Delta squad joined in the defense of the city.

"Close the Iris!" John ordered, but as the words flew from his mouth a creature followed on the heels of the men.

Moira gasped, staring. She held the baby close to her, shielding him form the hideous sight as he wailed.

"Shut it down! Kill it!" John ordered. Now free of his son he snatched his P90 and sprinted down to the 'Gate room as the marines fired on the strange creature.

"Close that fucking Iris!"

"I'm trying! There's some interference with the there!" Rodney exclaimed, fingers flying over two consoles at once as he shoved a technician out of the way. The Iris closed, cutting the creature in half. The wormhole dissolved. The upper body fell to the floor, still twitching. Blood gushed in a pool. A dark, reddish hue with yellowish innards.

Moira kissed the baby as he quieted, calming in her arms. "Ssh, ssh, Johnny, it's all right now. It's safe. Daddy killed it, it can't hurt you, darling," she soothed. "There now." The baby hiccuped. Sniffled. Clung to her.

John glanced up at them, making certain his wife and son were safe. Secure. He neared the body, gun trained on it like everyone else's in the room. A terse silence was finally broken by his words. "Get Beckett here now!"

"What the hell is that thing?" Rodney asked, coming up beside Moira. He stared down at the partial remains, a look of disgust on his face.

Moira shook her head, resisting the impulse to run down to the 'Gate room for a closer look. "I have no idea. It's vaguely human, vaguely Wraith, but mostly insect," she observed, peering intently at it. She gently bounced the baby, kissed him again. "It's all right, darling. Daddy took care of it."

"Well, technically I took care of it," Rodney corrected.

Moira smiled. "Yes, your Uncle Rodney took care of it too," she agreed. The baby snuffled, cuddling. "Rodney, can we hear what they are–"

"Yes, hang on." He flipped a switch as Carson entered the 'Gate room.

John's voice came over in mid-harangue, "...and I said one hour! Adams, take your squad and deliver that thing to the Wraith lab. Strictest protocols!"

"John! An hour's hardly enough time to–" Carson began to protest.

"Don't care! I don't want that thing in the same city as my son! Or even on the same planet! One hour and we'll take it to the Alpha site to destroy it!"

"John!" Carson protested again. "We obviously need to study this in detail! It's remarkable! Yet another mutated specimen but mutated in entirely different ways than the last ones! I'll need Moira to–"

"Hell no! Use any other biologist, not her! Reynolds, debrief in ten!"

"Yes, sir!" Jason Reynolds agreed, glancing at his shaken men.

"John!" Moira moved to the console so he could hear her. "I need to study it! An hour isn't enough time to–"

John looked up at the sound of her voice. His glare hitting her. "No. Wait for me right there!" He swung back to the remaining marines. "Well? What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation? I gave an order! Take that thing and haul it to the Wraith lab! Now!" He turned to the doctor. "Carson, you have fifty minutes and counting. Reynolds, conference room in eight!" He strode out of the 'Gate room, moved to the control room. Moira turned to him but he caught her arm, led her across the room. "No. You need to take care of our son. I don't want either of you near that damn thing!"

"John! It's dead! It can't possibly–"

"He knew."

"What?"

"Gaga! Gaga goo!" the baby cried happily. John let the infant catch a finger.

"He knew. Why do you think he was crying?"

"John, all the noise probably frightened him. He's just a baby."

"No. He started to wail before anything happened, Moy, I swear. Before that first laser even. He started to wail like a banshee. Somehow he knew. He sensed that thing."

"Oh come on, John! First you think he can sense the ATA gene in other people, now he can sense Wraith? You–"

"You tell me! I only know what I saw. And I'm telling you he knew. Go and take care of him. Once that thing is gone you can pour over all the samples you like. Just keep our son away from it!" He moved to the consoles. "Rodney! What happened to the Iris? The delay could have–"

"Some sort of diagnostic interference. I'm running simulations now!"

"Good. I've got a debrief. Keep me posted." He turned, saw Moira hadn't moved. Was staring at him. "Moira! Go!" He pointed. Ascended the stairs two at a time. "Delta, this is Sheppard! At exactly," he checked his watch, "forty-five minutes you haul that thing to the 'Gate. Is that understood?" Hearing the confirmation he nodded. "Sheppard out!" He turned at the top of the stairs, watching his wife and son exit the control room at last. He relaxed slightly. "Ronon! Keep an eye on the Wraith lab!"

"Got it, Sheppard!" Ronon hastened out of the room.

John entered the conference room, sat waiting for Reynolds and his team. Calmed the hammering in his chest. His son so close to danger but safe. His wife. He pondered his son's strange reaction, despite Moira's disbelief.

"John! What the hell happened? I was halfway across the city!" Elizabeth entered, appearing flushed as if she had run the whole way. The red shirt she wore was heaving with every breath she took.

"Reynolds brought back a pet and I said he couldn't keep it," John quipped, but grew solemn as the marines filed in and took seats. Elizabeth sat next to John, a perplexed expression on her face. "Report," he ordered, glancing at his watch.

"There's not much to report, sir," Jason stated, glancing at his men. "We were set upon two klicks from the 'Gate. By a...a swarm of those things. They were all different, but all like, like giant insects."

"Explain," John said tersely.

"Different, sir. Different physiognomies. But all bi-pedal insects, basically. Some more Wraith than others, but not. I've never seen anything like it! There was a ruined tower in the distance, and what appeared to be human habitations but we didn't get that far, sir."

"There was no one around, sir," a second man noted. Still clearly upset by the experience. Face pale. Hands slightly shaking. "It was like, like a horror movie...they moved so fast!"

"Those things came out of nowhere, sir! They made this weird chittering noise, set our teeth on edge," Jason continued.

"Gave me the creeps. Sir," another added.

"So we beat a hasty retreat to the 'Gate. Most backed away from our P90s but they are hard to put down. As you saw, sir, when one followed us through."

John nodded. "Yes, major, I saw. I saw you bring a hazard, a threat through the 'Gate. You compromised the security of this city."

"John!" Elizabeth scolded. "You can't blame Reynolds for that! You said these things moved very fast?"

"Very, ma'am. Faster than either humans or Wraith," Jason agreed. Eyed his commanding officer who was scowling. "We couldn't stop it following us, sir. We would never compromise the security of the city. It did finally go down."

"If not for McKay it would be intact and in this city, and who knows how long it would have taken for it to go down," John sternly corrected. "Next time you make damn sure, damn sure that you are clear of any hostiles or monsters before you even dial the 'Gate much less go through it!"

"John! That is unreasonable! We need to protect our people and make sure they have a quick exit if need be," Elizabeth objected, but John ignored her. His gaze boring into Jason's.

"Is that understood, major?" John reiterated. His voice like steel.

"Yes, sir."

"Get checked by Beckett, then stand down. I want a fully detailed report in one hour. Dismissed." John watched the men leave.

Elizabeth sighed. "John, you are overreacting," she noted once they were alone. "The situation was well under control. There's no need to berate Reynolds for seeing to the safety of his men."

"His priority is the safety of this city and it's inhabitants," John replied, moving to his feet.

"And because two of those inhabitants happen to be your wife and child you feel the need to bend the rules and possibly place those men in danger? Would you deny them access to safety?"

John met her gaze. Saw her recoil at the answer in his cold, cold gaze. "I've got to go dispose of a monster."

"John? John! Wait!" Elizabeth stood, moved after him but John was already gone. Descending the stairs rapidly. "This isn't over yet! We need to discuss this! John! John!"


	3. Chapter 3

The Teratogenic Effect3

Moira had calmed the baby. Soothed him with a bottle and soft, loving words. Now she carried him to the Wraith lab. She stepped inside, over to the locked inner lab. The baby started to fuss. She kissed him, sighed. Moved to sit at the desk across the room where a monitor displayed the inner room. The creature's upper torso on a table, partially blocked by the forms of two men. "Carson?"she asked, speaking into the comm. "Peter?"

"Moira, good!" Carson smiled, eying the camera. "We've taken tissue samples and run a scan, and Peter is running an initial analysis of the blood work as we speak. Check the scans, love."

"Okay." She scooted to the next monitor, turned the baby away from the screen. Gently bouncing him on her lap. The infant gurgled, catching her lab coat in his little hands. Staring at his mother. Moira eyed the half-torso, displayed in colored lines with scrolling data to one side. The outlines of a vaguely human form, but with arthropod appendages. A mishmash of features and development that she could only marvel at, unable to explain it. "Initial findings?"

"It's a big bug," Peter informed.

She laughed. "Thank you, Doctor Harrison. You're expertise is astounding!" The men laughed.

"But accurate, mostly," Carson agreed. "We'll need to run a full DNA work-up but right now all I am seeing is only trace humanoid development. Apart from the bi-pedal structure and the roughly human attributes...the rest is undeniably insect...but not quite. Potentially we could be looking at a wholly different life form. Not quite one or the other, human or bug."

"And Wraith?" she asked, gently stroking the baby's back as his fingers plied at her lab coat. Managed to pull the loose lapel to his mouth to suck, all the while staring at her. His solemn expression matching his mother's.

"Some...it's hard to say without any blood work. There's no sucker. No obvious Wraith features. Very curious," Carson muttered, shaking his head. "Perhaps it's not Wraith at all."

"An entirely new life form," Peter enthused quietly. "Devoid of Wraith DNA?"

Moira leaned closer to the monitor where the body was displayed. "I suppose it's possible, but it still has Wraith attributes. Just not as much. Underdeveloped, maybe? But that doesn't make any sense."

"A malformed drone?" suggested Carson with a shrug, as he carefully cut away a tissue sample.

"Like the others, but not," Peter muttered. "More animalistic in some ways, not quite human...but look at this. Human skin under here..." He lifted a carapace to reveal a softer tissue, skin resembling human epidermis. "How is that even possible?"

"What about the internal organs? Well, what's left of them. If we can determine the specific organs that might help us identify the creature," she suggested, eying the body, then the scan again. The creature's form outlined. "It's almost...almost primitive...like those others...an earlier type of –"

"Moira Sheppard!"

She whirled in her seat, so startled by John's strident voice she almost dropped the baby. John strode into the lab, the Delta marines at his back. Boots clomping with efficiency. Guns held in front of them, more than ready to be raised in combat. The baby freed her coat to prattle, reaching out towards his father. "Gaga! Gaga goo!" he cried happily, not at all intimidated by the armed men, the bristling weaponry. The stern expressions that softened seeing the infant.

"John, I was just–" Moira began, sounding defensive, guilty as if she had been caught doing something she shouldn't be doing.

He glowered. Hit the comm. "Five minutes, doc!" Turned to her. "I told you, Moira, I don't want my son anywhere near that damn thing!"

"He's not near it, John," she replied, voice mild, "and I am doing my job."

"Your job, doctor, is exactly what I tell you it is!" He leaned over the comm again, ignoring her indignation. "Three, doc! Sew it up!" He straightened, eyed her. "Get the body bag!" he ordered over his shoulder, met his wife's gaze again.

"Yes, sir!"

"John, you are being ridiculous! We have an unparalleled example here of something entirely new to this galaxy! To any galaxy! Whether through natural or unnatural processes something is making these creatures! For all we know it's a teratogenic effect and if that is the case we need to find out not only the source but the possible consequences for both of our species!"

"The who? What?" he asked, momentarily distracted from his anger by the science she all but threw at him.

"The teratogenic effect!" she repeated, as if that explained everything. "A monster genetic effect, created by a drug or chemical which has adverse effects on the development of the embryo. Resulting in mutations and birth defects, like that thing in there, like the others for all we know! We need to do a complete chemical analysis, John, because if this is the case we are all in danger! Either it's a weapon or a naturally occurring agent but in either event it is harmful to both of our species and we need to–"

"Whoa!" John held up a hand, processing the information. The marines were silent, watching him. Watching Moira as she waited, holding the baby in her arms. The infant was reaching for John, gurgling in wonder as he stared at the unfamiliar TAC vest adorning his father. "You're suggesting this could be a weapon. Like the Hoffan serum, for example."

Moira nodded. "Maybe. We won't know until we conduct a complete chemical analysis and compare it to the other samples we have. It could be a naturally occurring agent as well. Some otherwise unknown toxin. We need the body, John, or what's left of it."

"No."

Before Moira could protest the baby chortled. "Gaga! Gaga goo!"

"Dada, get it right, junior," he admonished gently as the baby caught hold of his father's TAC vest. John smiled, carefully freed it from his son's firm grasp. "Not yet, junior. Moira, get him out of here before that door opens!" he decided.

Moira frowned, stood, baby in her arms. "John, didn't you hear me? If this is a –"

"Don't care. Now go." His tone brooked no argument. The baby started to cry.

"John! Damn it, this is important! If we can discover what is making these mutations–"

"I don't care what is making them, only that they stay the hell away from my city! Now take our son out of here before that thing comes out of there! Go!"

"I don't think you fully understand the implications of the–"

"Of course I do! If it's a weapon then someone is behind all of this, and if it's naturally occurring we need to find the source and block access to that planet!"

"Oh. Okay, you do understand," she realized, "but still we need a full analysis and comparison of all data to locate the–"

"And I said I don't care! Go! Take our son out of here now, Moira!" he snapped. Green eyes hard as diamonds. Scowl on his handsome face. Pissed and so sexy at the same time that Moira hesitated between an answering anger and a desirous response. Until anger won out as the baby cried loudly.

"Fine!" she snapped. "Now see what you've done! You know he hates that tone!"

"GO!" John all but bellowed, losing patience. Although part of him enjoyed arguing with his wife. Finding her flustered, furious state arousing and desirable. Until his own impatience and concern for his son intervened.

Moira glared, but shoved past him, past the marines. The baby started to cry in earnest now, upset at the clamor. His mother's anger. His father's fury and stern, stern voice.

John sighed, moved to the lab. Punched the code, pressed his palm to the screen. It went from red to green. Chimed pleasantly. The door opened. "Carson! Now!" he barked.

"All right, colonel, don't get your knickers in a twist," Carson sighed. "There." He secured the last tie on the torso, concealing the remains. "We need at least another hour, John, for a proper examination! We could–"

"No, you can't. Henderson!" John watched the men load the wrapped remains into a body bag. John turned as Carson and Peter stepped out of the lab. He eyed the two scientists, clad alike in white lab coats. Latex gloves covered their hands. "Keep every sample in here. Every tissue, every blood cell, every skin cell, everything you have collected. Keep it all in here. Under lock and key. It goes no where else in this city. Understood?"

"Of course, colonel," Peter agreed, glancing at Carson who nodded after exchanging a glance with the other man. Conveying both exasperation and caution.

"Yes, John, we know the protocols," the Scottish doctor reassured.

"Then follow them to the letter. Moira is to get nowhere near any of this!"

"But we need her to–" Peter began to object.

"Convey all your findings to her but she does not step within ten feet of the actual samples! That is a direct order!" He whirled. "Let's go!" He strode out after the men. Tapped his earpiece. "Lieutenant! Dial up the Alpha site! Let's get this over with!"

Moira carried the baby to the Wraith lab. The infant was calmer, prattling but grew quiet, cuddling against his mother. Moira moved to access the inner lab. She stepped back as the door opened before she could input the code. "Peter, I was just–"

"Not so fast, Moira," he warned, holding up an admonishing hand. "You can't be here. I'll send you all of the data."

"What?" She shifted the baby in her arms as he gurgled, clutching at her. "What do you mean? I need direct access for a comparison of the–"

"John's orders, I'm afraid." Carson joined them, exiting the lab to stand next to Peter. Blocking her. "His restrictions. You're not to touch or even be near any of this."

"What?" she repeated. "Carson, come on! Since when do we follow his–"

"As of now, I'm afraid. He was quite adamant, Moira."

"I don't care how adamant he was! He's just being overzealously protective again! That's all! There's no danger here!" she argued.

"I know," Peter agreed. "I'm sorry, Moira, but I have to agree with Carson. We have to follow the colonel's protocols to the letter. His orders. As much as we may disagree."

"What? You disagree but you'll do what he says, what he orders no matter how ridiculous or unnecessary? Well? This isn't about me, is it? It's about Johnny!" she realized, glancing at the infant. He was pouting, so like his father she stared a moment, distracted. But she eyed the two men again. "There's no danger to him either! Do you really think I'd put my own child at risk? How can I do my job if you both quake at the wrath of John Sheppard?"

"You can still do your job, love, just at a distance," Carson temporized. "And of course you'd never place wee Sheppard at risk."

"I'm transferring all the data to your lap top, and when I'm done we can compare this to our previous work," Peter offered. "Don't you trust us to do a competent job?"

She frowned. "Of course, Peter! It is not that! It's...oh fine! Fine! I'll just be a secondhand observer, then, shall I?"

"Moira, we still need you to–"

"No! No, Carson, clearly you don't need me at all! I'll be a good girl and just go to my room, shall I? I'll be the obedient little wife and look after the baby, shall I? I am a scientist, damn it! A biologist! This is my field, not just changing diapers! Thanks a lot, you two!" Fuming she carried the baby out of the lab.

John stood, watching the corpse burn. The fetid stench filled the cold air. It was snowing at the Alpha site, and John huddled in his light jacket. Blinked at the large flakes floating on the wind currents. It wasn't the cold that caused the shivers up and down his back. It was the memory of that first half human, half Wraith creature. Of the caves where he had been trapped. Forced to watch the monster sexually assault a marine, then kill him. Rip him apart and devour part of him. The same thing had almost happened to him, but Moira had saved him. Just in time.

John shuddered at the memory. The thing's power to make him see Moira instead of it's ugliness. The thing's mouth so close to his cock, claws on his thighs. He gulped, fighting back a wave of nausea. Shoved it down, all the horror. The vulnerability. The weakness. Only Moira and he knew exactly what had happened, what could have happened. How she had found him.

He glowered at the burning flesh in front of him.

"Sir?" A marine approached cautiously. "It's good and dead, sir."

John nodded. "Then let's go, major. I hate the cold."


	4. Chapter 4

The Teratogenic Effect4

Moira had calmed down, rocking the baby as she fed him his bottle. She sat at the table, staring at the data screen. Frowned. "That doesn't make sense," she complained.

"I know," Peter agreed, sitting beside her in her room. He eyed the screen where several DNA strands swirled. Double helixes of colors and genetic codes. "If I didn't know any better I would swear we had four different samples from four different creatures, but all of those are from the same creature! It's impossible! And fragmented like that? Like someone was making a potion of different ingredients. We need a genetic expert, Moira, this is way beyond me. Even Carson is baffled."

Moira nodded grimly, staring at the screen. "And the species...human, Iratus bug, Wraith...all jumbled into something else...the strands need to be separated like..." She adjusted the bottle as the baby greedily sucked at it, little hands wrapped around it securely. Eyes on his mother. "Toxins?"

"None. Trace amounts of unknown chemicals, but nothing reading as a toxin or a poison. We're trying to isolate it but the amounts are too minute for a full comprehensive analysis. If this is a teratogenic effect I don't think it was natural. The various mutations we have been discovering would be more alike."

"True. The sequences...these changes..how do they compare with the others?"

"With what little we have there are some similarities...but changes are effected here, and here. Different links along the chain," Peter pointed at the screen, made the images larger. He looked at her, saw her sudden comprehension, dismay. "Moira? Do you see something? Do you know someone who could understand this?"

Moira set the bottle aside, lifted the baby to her shoulder to burp him. "Yes. But...he's on Earth." Her gaze fell inward as the past reared up like a wave, but she shoved it back in her mind. Patted the baby's back as he made little sounds, little burps issuing.

"Oh. There goes that, then. Unless we can convince Weir of the urgency. Or your husband."

Moira stood, pacing. Burping the baby. "Maybe..." Her mind drifting to the past again. To the inevitable conclusions the screen had presented. The evidence. Past and present colliding. "I will collate this just to be sure."

"As will I. Moira, if someone is somehow effecting these changes...I mean, on this level...it's way beyond us. If the Wraith are somehow trying to create something, some kind of supercharged creature under their control..."

"But that doesn't make sense, Peter. Not like this, I mean. Granted we know very little of their reproductive behavior, but so far these creatures, these mutations are resulting in a more primitive creature. Not an advancement...a, a devolution, if you will. Which doesn't make sense either. The Wraith would have no use for such things."

"True," he agreed. "Then who would?"

The two biologists looked at each other, both startled, alarmed by the question. The implications. Until the baby started to hiccup, spit up a little. Moira gently rubbed his back as his little hands clutched at her.

Peter stood, smiled as the baby emitted a loud burp. "He's got a champion burp."

Moira smiled. "Yes, just like his father." Her smile faded once Peter had gone. She kissed the baby, set him into his playpen. "There, darling. Let mommy work. Johnny, Johnny...it can't be. Can it?" she wondered, still pacing as the baby gurgled, watching her. "I'll have to collate all the data to be sure, to be sure. But why? Why would someone do this, Johnny? We know what it is, don't we? It's the only logical explanation...but how?"

But she kept pacing, hands wringing together. Lost in the past, the darkness that threatened to swallow her. Knowing the one man who would understand the complications of the evidence was a friend, but would also propel her into the tragedy of that last expedition. Would force her to confront all the guilt and memories. It was unavoidable. But it was necessary.

She moved back to the data screen. Losing herself in the science, escaping into the research.

John stomped the snow off his boots, dismissed the men as Elizabeth and Rodney approached him. He shrugged. "It's done. Alpha site is secure."

"Good. Carson's got a bevy of information but he was still conferring with Moira and Peter. These creatures...how many have we encountered so far?" she asked as they strolled out of the 'Gate room.

"Three...maybe four. On different planets. Isolated incidents."

"I've been running a tally, a chart comparison with Moira's trajectory research and our own with those outer planets," Rodney offered, "and the migration patterns but in reversal and I actually found a few hits. Could be coincidence but probably not."

"Wait, wait, I thought we decided to abandon that migratory reversal research as it wasn't relevant to what we really need to know," Elizabeth objected, looking from one man to the other.

John and Rodney exchanged a quick look. "You decided," John replied evenly. "I didn't." Before she could protest he turned to Rodney. "Keep on that, and trace all other incidents. I want those addresses ASAP. And the outer regions of the galaxy, how many hits there?"

"Not many...but those areas are uncharted still. 'Gate access appears to be limited given the enormous power demands, but I'll see what I can do. Maybe we can squeeze enough to send a MALP to one location...hey! Your son could always juice up the–"

"My son is not the Energizer bunny, so knock it off, Rodney! If you'll excuse me I need to see what Moira's discovered."

"John!" Elizabeth caught his arm, stopping him. "What the hell have you been doing behind my back? This research was abandoned! It is not relevant to what we need now!"

"I disagree, and I am hardly going behind your back," he noted. Glanced at her hand on his arm. She freed him. "Now I need to go see if my son is all right. This quite upset him."

"Well, no wonder, having a monster invade the city and all," Rodney agreed. "What?" he asked as Elizabeth glared at him. John strode away from them.

John entered his quarters, suddenly cautious. Realizing his wife would probably be pissed at him. He moved to the playpen. His son was prattling happily, crawling around as he dragged a toy. He looked up at his father, smiled. "Gaga! Gaga goo!"

John smiled, knelt. "Dada. Dada. Get it right, junior." He pulled out a melting snowball, set it on his son's lap. The baby's blue eyes widened as he felt it, staring. He touched it. Made a surprised sound. John laughed. "Yes, it's cold. It's like Hoth on the Alpha site, son. Look. See?" John touched the snowball. "It's called snow."

"Sasa?"

"Snow," John repeated. Looked over to see Moira step out of the bathroom. She froze, then stared. Moved to the table. John leaned, kissed the baby's head. Stood and moved to the table where a beer bottle stood next to the empty baby bottle. "Is that for me or for him?"

"You."

"Thanks." He took it. Downed a long swallow. Turned hearing his son's exclamation as the snowball fell apart on him. The baby giggled, patting it. Trying to grab it as the snow melted away. "Um, look, Moy...I know you're pissed at me. Aren't you?" His gaze moved to her as she sat. Her quiet, resigned mood throwing him. He had been expecting anger, an argument which would lead to hot, passionate sex. Or so he had been hoping.

"Yes, I am. But that will have to wait."

"Wait? Okay, I guess. Moy?" He sat, touched her arm. She drew away from him. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

She stood. Moved to the window to stare out at the ocean. White-capped waves sparkled against the blue-green waters. The sun shining from the pale blue sky. "I've been collating. The data. And the result. Undeniable. There's no other explanation. So we have to."

"Have to what, exactly?" he asked, glancing at the data screen but it was shut.

"We have to go. To Earth. Well, I have to go. These samples...the DNA from the creature...the creatures themselves. It's presenting four different species which is impossible. We need a top-rated geneticist who specializes in paleontology to examine them. The best of the best, advanced in the latest theories and new disciplines." She paused, swallowed, the words catching in her throat. "Professor Jared McKenzie. He...he's the very best, and based at the Museum of Nature and Science, not far from the SGC. He's the only one who could begin to correctly interpret the data and come up with the conclusion."

John sipped his beer. Seeing the tension in her body, hearing it in her voice. Waves of sorrow and darker things. "And what aren't you telling me?" He glanced at his son. Snow melted the baby was crawling around again, prattling to himself as he went.

"Um...Professor McKenzie. I interned under him for two years. At the museum." She touched the windowsill. Fingers clenching the smooth surface. "It's where I met, I met James. Where we worked right before the, that last expedition where he..." She broke off, changed topics. "The professor is a good man, John. We can trust him. He never, never blamed me for...he's on the cutting edge of this new genetic research, new fields combining several disciplines. But he won't talk to you. He doesn't trust the military. And you exude military, colonel. Even when you are in civvies. But he will talk to me so I have to go see him. I'd like to see him, actually, but, but, but I...John, John, I think, no, I know I'll be fine but I, but I can't...I need...I need you with me. I need Johnny with me."

"I–" John began, but Moira hadn't finished yet, or couldn't finish.

"Johnny, Johnny needs a whole new wardrobe again! He's growing so fast, John, and soon he'll be out of the bigger sizes we bought the last time! He needs new toys to aid his development and to encourage his education, his language skills and dexterity and his mobility. My God, John, soon he'll be walking, well, trying to walk and he still needs a new playpen and we need to find a way to baby-proof all of Atlantis and John, John, please, please, I can't, I can't–"

John stood. Moved to her. Spun her round to him and kissed her. Catching her mouth with his to stop her rambling, her anxiety. He pulled her into his arms. "Ssh," he soothed, freeing her mouth at last. "Like I'd let you go alone? Like we'd let you leave us? Fuck no." He held her close, stroked her back, her hair as she clung to him. "This professor...he's the only one who can interpret the data?"

"Yes." Her voice was muffled against his chest. She closed her eyes a moment, drinking in his strength, his support. His love. His warmth and protection. She opened her eyes as he drew back from her to meet her gaze. Brilliant green eyes assessing.

"And this is that important?" he asked quietly. Brushed a few stray stands of hair from her face.

"Yes. It is. If...if what I suspect is going on...I just need confirmation. And if it is...John..." She touched his chest.

He considered. Kissed her. "All right. The Daedalus docks tomorrow. I'll talk to Weir to..." He turned, hearing his son's exclamation. "Johnny, no!" The baby was halfway over the playpen's top, precariously balanced. The infant grinned at his father.

"Gaga! Gaga goo!"

"Shit!" John rushed to grab the baby before he fell. "Damn, captain!" He hoisted the baby high, making him chortle with delight. Lowered him, turning to Moira who was smiling. "Looks like we do need a new playpen, or at least a taller one. You told me that earlier, didn't you?"

"Several times," she noted tiredly. Moved to them. Kissed the happy baby. "Darling, you are an explorer, just like your father."

John smiled, but grew serious. "Moira, are you sure about this? I mean about going back there. Ssh, captain," he added as the baby prattled loudly, touching his father's jaw, then reaching for the earpiece. "Not that again, captain. Here we go." John hoisted him up over his head, strode in a circle making plane noises. The baby giggled wildly, beaming. John lowered him gently to blow a raspberry on his tummy. The infant exploded into laughter. "There, captain? Now let me talk to your mother."

Moira was watching, shaking her head fondly at the pair. She sat on the bed. John sat next to her. Set the baby between them.

"Moira," he touched her thigh, "if you don't want to go I can handle this."

"Really, John? You can talk about the strands of DNA and how this looks like teratogenic effect but in fact might be, as I suspect, an evolutionary development with biological tampering to an extent that we haven't even come close to in our own science which had dramatic implications not only for us but for the Wraith as well? Someone is turning back the clock, John! Devolution at the molecular level which shouldn't be possible! Do you even understand the implications?"

He blinked. "Okay...maybe I can't handle it but someone else can. Or have the no captain." The baby was touching the knife holstered at John's hip. "Damn, he's determined."

Moira smiled, turning as John did. "He wants your attention, John. He's as stubborn as you are. He wants to play with you." She ran her hand up his thigh. "Come to think of it, so do I."

"Oh?" He kissed her, at the same time catching the baby before he crawled to the edge of the bed. "Hmm...let me think, baby. We need to discuss this first. Sort things out."

"Weren't you going to talk to Weir? Take Johnny with you. He'll seal the deal."

"Will he? What do you think, captain?" The baby gurgled, crawled onto his father's lap. Touched his belt buckle, prattling.

"You can test your theories, John," she urged. Gently pushed his shoulder. "Go."

He met her gaze. "Are you trying to get rid of us?"

"Yes. Go. No, I'll be fine. Please, John."

He relented, suspicious. Kissed her. "Fine, Moy, but we'll be back. To play. Repeatedly."

She kissed the baby. "Be good, Johnny."

"Mama! Gaga goo!"

John kissed her again. "Back in twenty, sweetheart. Both of us, unless junior here makes a date."

She smiled. "It could happen. He is a Sheppard, after all. Go."

John stood, holding the baby. "Moy, look...you don't have to go. You–"

"I do, sweetie. Go." She stood, kissed him. Kissed the baby.

"All right. Back in fifteen."

"You said twenty."

"Make it ten." He hesitated. "I just want to be sure you're okay, Moira. I mean I know–"

"I'm not going to do anything stupid, John! I just need some time alone, okay? Surely you can understand that!"

"Okay, Moy. I just...ten. Ten and we'll be back," he conceded to her glare.


	5. Chapter 5

The Teratogenic Effect5

John carried his son down the hallways. The baby prattled, gurgled, happy to be in his father's arms. He held onto his father's shirt, staring round, smiling. He exclaimed, prattling loudly as they passed Rodney, who smirked and kept walking down the hallway.

"Ga! Rarararara!" the baby called after him, squirming.

"Easy, captain! Oh my God, are you trying to say Rodney? You need to say dada first," John chastised, surprised. He sighed, shaking his head. The baby quieted as more people passed, and John noted their lack of the ATA gene. His son's reactions. "See? You are a snob, captain," he said quietly, pausing to kiss the baby's rosy cheek.

The baby gurgled. "Gaga goo!"

"Dada. Get it right, junior, please. Before you say Rodney." He sighed, paused in the control room. "Radek, have you seen Elizabeth?"

The Czech scientist smiled as the baby was looking round, quiet for the moment. "She's on the balcony. I gave her a blueprint of the structural additions we found on Pier five."

"Oh. Right." He carried the baby across the room and out of the city. A warm breeze blew, stirring the baby's dark hair. He moved to the balcony where Elizabeth stood, data pad in one hand as she stared down, across the waters. The city spread out under them, like the petals of a flower. Tall spires and gleaming metal suspended on the waves. "Got a sec?"

"Not really, John. I need to make some suggestions to this before the engineers can oh." She paused, turning to see him. To see the baby in his arms. She smiled. "I guess I can spare a sec."

John smiled. "He's nearly crawling out of his playpen now, a climber, I'm afraid, and he needs a whole new wardrobe. He's growing out of everything Moira and I bought him."

She quirked a brow. "Is that your way of telling me you're going to Earth?"

"Yeah. But that's not the main reason. That thing apparently contains four DNA sequences of different species, which I am told is impossible. Everyone here is baffled."

"I read the scientific reports," she agreed. "Let me guess. You know someone on Earth who can unravel this mystery?"

"No. Moira does. And old professor of hers. Best geneticist out there. So I thought I'd take care of everything at once." He waited as she stared at him, at the baby who was staring at the waters below them. Clutching at his father as the wide expanse was both frightening and exciting. He gurgled softly.

"I'm sure there's someone at the SGC who can–" she finally said.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Moira said this guy is the best geneticist we can approach about this as he is conversant in several disciplines pertaining to this particular problem. And he is near the SGC, in the same state, even. Besides, Johnny needs stuff. Don't you, buddy?" The baby gurgled, eyes on his father now.

"Doctor Weir, here are the schematics I, oh, sorry!" Evan paused in mid-stride. "Sir." He smiled at the baby who looked at him. Began to prattle suddenly. Evan handed the pad to Elizabeth.

"Thank you, major."

"Major," John noted.

"Colonel. He's quite a chatterbox, isn't he, sir?"

"Sometimes. He gets that from Moira," John quipped. "Lorne, hold up a sec."

"Yes, sir." Evan returned inside, curious at the request. Waited.

John turned back to Elizabeth. "So? This isn't a problem, is it?"

She frowned. "Why no, John, of course not. It's no problem having my military commander take off for Earth yet again and will more than likely be gone for over a month! No problem at all! I'll be sure to leave the porch light on for you when you get back!"

"Good...glad it's not a problem, then," he quipped.

"John! Of course it's a problem! Why can't Moira go on her own, or with the baby?"

"Seriously? She's not going without me or without Johnny. Not for that long."

"Then you–"

"No. She needs to go to explain all of the science, and she can't be apart from Johnny that long. And I can't have them alone on Earth for that long without me. Moira says this is important."

"And that's enough for you?"

"Yes. And it should be for you too. Apparently this is further proof of a very real danger out there. A danger not only to us but to the Wraith, even, and we need to know if it is natural or not. If we can use it against the Wraith, and if it will affect our own people and everyone out here. If there's some madman running around creating these monsters we need to stop him."

"I know. I've been told that too. Some kind of genetic mutations through accident or design. That's nothing new out here, John. Both the Ancients and the Wraith are known for their genetic tampering. With others and with their own respective species. Why the urgency now over these odd creatures?"

John gently bounced the baby as he began to softly fuss. "Easy, junior. Because someone is turning back the clock. Devolution at a molecular level that shouldn't be possible. The implications are...well, pretty serious."

Elizabeth had to smile. "Sounds like you're quoting Moira."

"I am. And if she is that concerned then we need to be that concerned. So we are going to Earth to find out exactly what is happening here. Either we can use it or prevent it." John returned to the city. The baby started to prattle again as Evan turned. "You little snob."

"Sir?"

"Not you, major. Conference room," John indicated. Followed the other man across the control room. John shifted the baby to his other side as the infant tried to grab the earpiece. "No, Johnny. Cut it out." The two men sat in the conference room. John bounced the baby on his legs. "As you may have guessed I'm going to Earth. Tomorrow. All three of us."

"Yes, sir," Evan agreed, smiling. The baby was grinning at him. Began to prattle non-stop, voice growing louder and louder.

"That leaves you in charge of the city, major. With Elizabeth. I need you to make a..." John paused as the baby grew louder, catching his father's fingers and babbling to Evan as if they were old friends. John raised his voice over his son's. "I need you to make a collation of all of the planets where we have encountered those creatures, and compare it to Rodney's. Also I need a map of that reverse migratory pattern data. Any other intel on those creatures from our allies as well, plus...Johnny, hush!" John stopped bouncing the baby but the infant giggled.

"Gaga! Gaga goo! Gaga goo!" the infant exclaimed, as if that explained everything. He prattled to Evan again loudly.

Evan tried not to laugh at the baby's enthusiasm, at John's exasperated expression. "Yes, sir!"

"We need..." John sighed, raised his voice again. "We need to start tracking those things and see if there's any discernible pattern to where we find them or where anyone encounters them!"

"Yes, sir! I will check with our allies and the teams!"

"Have one of the biologists collate the different species to see if there are any–"

"Colonel? Is there a reason you are shouting?" Teyla Emmagan raised a brow as she stood at the open doorway. Amusement on her face as she eyed the two men, the baby between them. The infant had quieted, suddenly scooted up against his father.

John noted the reaction. He gently stroked his son's back. "Yes, Teyla. Little blah blah blah here decided to tell Lorne his life story at the top of his lungs." They laughed.

She entered the room, smiling. "He seems to have finished."

"Yeah, well, he's pretty new to this galaxy. To any galaxy, actually." He looked at Evan. "What was I saying? Oh. Data of those planets and those creatures. Rodney thinks he may have found something but I want to be doubly sure before we move on this. If we find a settlement pattern we might be able to track them backwards to their origin site. To whoever is creating them."

"You believe that someone is creating those things?" Teyla asked, startled. The baby started to fuss, snuffling.

"Yes," John confirmed. "Which means we may be in some serious trouble unless we can find this guy and stop him. Whatever or whoever he is."

"Why would someone create those things?" Evan asked.

"Beats me. But we need to find that out too." The baby fussed, whining. "Oh oh. Must be lunch time, huh, son? Okay." John stood. "Those things could be natural, but either way we need to eliminate them. Excuse us." John carried his son out of the room. "Okay, okay, easy, junior. Hush, captain, no need for a show," he admonished, as the baby began to cry. His stride increased as the baby's cries became more persistent. He entered his quarters, saw the closed bathroom door. Sounds of water running. "Moira!"

"I'm fine, John!" she called, sounding irritated. The water ceased.

John smiled at her tone. "Um, Moy...Johnny's hungry."

"Really? Wow, nothing gets by you, colonel," she acerbically commented. "Feed him."

"Feed him?"

"Yes! You know what to do!" she called, shaking her head. She wiped her face. Pushing back the flood of emotions she had had to release. The past a darkness of guilt and anxiety that she couldn't let cloud her judgment, affect her science. Couldn't reveal to John.

"Um, I thought that was your purview, sweetheart," he stated, staring at the door. Needing her to come out of there although she sounded fine.

"Yours now, too, colonel!"

John sighed. "So...so can I just heat the milk in the bottle? In the microwave or on the stove? Do I have to sterilize the bottle first? Where's the milk, in the fridge? I mean the formula, right? Isn't he on some kind of formula now? Moy?"

She sighed. Opened the door to her son's growing cries. "John Sheppard! Will you take care of your son?" she scolded. "Sit!" She imperiously pointed to the bed. Moved past him to the makeshift kitchen behind the table.

John smiled. But had seen her red eyes, the glimmer of tears. Realized he had missed another Moira storm, another burst of emotion and distress. But he kept silent. Carried the baby to the bed and sat. Trying to soothe the unhappy infant as Moira prepared the bottle. "Easy, junior, easy. Any sec now, okay?"

Moira moved to him at last. Positioned the baby in his arms, on his lap. Shoved the bottle into one hand. "It would help if you held it closer to his mouth!"

"Oh." John shifted. Held the bottle to his son's open mouth. But the baby was staring at his mother. Little brows furrowed.

Moira smiled. "It's all right, darling. Daddy knows perfectly well how to feed you. He's just being obstinate." She watched as the baby began to suck, taking the bottle's nipple into his mouth at last. Little hands grasping the bottle as he stared up at his father.

"Wow...he's got some serious pull there," John commented, adjusting the angle of the bottle. "Serious sucking action."

"Must be a Sheppard thing," she quipped. Before he could reply there was a knock on the door. She moved to it, opened it with a wave of her hand. "Oh. Steven."

"Am I interrupting anything, Moira?" Steven Caldwell asked, smiling.

"No. Please, come in." She stepped aside as the older man entered. "John's just learning how to feed Johnny his bottle."

"Lieutenant colonel."

"Sir." John made to rise awkwardly, trying to balance the baby and the bottle.

"At ease, lieutenant colonel. I can see you have your hands full," Steven said, amused.

"Yes, sir. I do."

Steven folded his hands behind his back. "I've been informed you're coming to Earth with me tomorrow. All of you," he added, his gaze encompassing Moira as he turned slightly.

"Yes, sir. To consult with a geneticist over these creatures and their inconsistent DNA," John answered. He glanced down at his son and tipped the bottle as the baby eagerly sucked. Expression serious as he stared up at his father.

"Is this absolutely necessary? You know the military frowns on outsourcing. Surely someone at the SGC could be of assistance."

"No." Moira's voice was soft. Drew the men's gaze to her anyway. "There's no one qualified at the SGC for this kind of molecular engineering. We need a top geneticist with degrees in both paleontology and biochemical research," she explained.

Steven eyed her. "I see. And the significance of this particular creature?"

"We can't unravel the DNA. What we're seeing is impossible so it must be wrong. The wrong interpretation."

"And this...specialist could give you the correct one?"

"Yes."

"If there's some sort of genetic tampering again with the Wraith or with humans we need to learn all that we can," John argued, gently rocking the baby as he finished the bottle. "And Moira assures me this professor is the best and is trustworthy."

Steven considered. "Still, the rules apply, lieutenant colonel. Non-disclosure agreements. Need to know basis. As little intel as deemed necessary and no actual samples of any kind."

"Of course, sir. I know the rules," John said, irritation in his voice. He tugged the bottle away from his son. Sat him up to gently pat his back.

"See that you follow them to the letter," Steven ordered. Smiled as the baby burped. He met Moira's gaze. "I'll empty a cargo hold for you."

She smiled. "I don't think we'll be bringing that much back with us this time, but thank you, Steven. We do need to go on another shopping trip for Johnny."

"Whatever you need, Moira. It's no problem. I'll leave you to it."

Moira followed him to the open door. "Thank you, Steven."


	6. Chapter 6

The Teratogenic Effect6

Moira turned. John was pacing, baby at his shoulder. He was gently burping the infant. "I'll take Johnny to Carson today for his check-up. Just to be sure."

John glanced at her. "Moy? Do you want to talk about it? About the apparent Moira storm I missed?"

"No."

"No? Are you sure? Look, Moira, I know this won't be easy for you. In fact I think you should just let me go. You should stay here with Johnny."

"No."

"But I don't want you to go through that."

She sighed, moved to the table. Stared at the data pad. "Maybe I have to go through that. I mean, maybe it's time, John. Besides, this is too important for any personal considerations."

"Nothing's too important for that, Moira," he countered. Set the baby into his playpen. The baby cooed, prattled. John moved to her but she drew away from him, closed in on herself. Rejecting his comfort, his sympathy. "I'll gather the necessary data. Don't you have arrangements to make? For being gone so long?"

"Yes," he said slowly, watching her. "Moira, don't. Don't pretend with me. I know. I know exactly how hard this will be for you, sweetheart."

She glanced at him. "I...I can't do this now, John. Okay?"

"Okay," he relented. "But don't push me away either. There's nothing that could change how I feel about you. About us."

She looked at the baby. He was staring at his parents, little mouth open. "I...I can't do this now," she repeated. She knelt at the playpen. Gave the baby a toy. "Here, darling."

John frowned. "Okay." He debated. Grabbed his data pad and left. Knowing she needed space. Needing to reconcile herself to revisiting the past before she could talk to him.

Moira was gently bouncing the baby on her lap. The infant was prattling happily as he stared at Carson. The doctor was running a scanner along the baby as he sat next to Moira in the infirmary. Entranced by the green light skimming over him the infant tried to grab it, catch it as it moved along his body. Giggled as his mother tickled him.

Carson smiled. "Just as I expected. Everything is fine, Moira. You have a healthy, happy baby."

She smiled. "Thank you, Carson. It's always good to hear. Could you draw a little blood?"

"What? Why? I just told you he's a perfectly healthy baby."

"I know. I want a genetic profile."

"Now, Moira, are you trying to tell me that after all of this time John may not be the father of this child? Just look at him! He's like a miniaturized version of the colonel!"

Moira laughed. "No! I mean, yes, of course John is the father! I want to see his DNA sequences. All of them," she explained.

"Och! You want to see the ATA genes," Carson realized.

"Yes."

"All right." He sighed. Tickled the baby's tummy to make him giggle. "I don't want to do this, Moira. It will hurt and once John hears his son crying there will be no stopping him. He may shoot me on sight!"

She smiled. "True, but I'll protect you, Carson." She kissed and cuddled the baby. Held out his little arm. "Hold still, darling. It's only for a moment."

Carson got a syringe. Took the blood. The baby cried, startled by the sudden prick of the needle into his arm. Big blue eyes filling with tears. Carson held a swab to the tiny wound. "Now there, all done, wee Sheppard. There's no need to cry! That wasn't so bad was it? Hold that." Moira held the swab in place as Carson labeled the vial. Produced a tiny bandage to put over the wound. "There. Are not still friends, wee Sheppard? Oh oh...he looks angry now. Exactly like John does when he's angry."

The baby had stopped crying. Was glaring. Eyes still full of tears. Furrowed brows and mouth in a hard line. "It's all right, Johnny," she soothed, kissing him. Cuddling him.

"I'm sorry, wee Sheppard."

"He's just as stubborn as John is too," Moira confided. "It's all right, darling."

"I'm not the favorite uncle any more," Carson sighed. "Let me put this right. We can't be falling out over this, wee Sheppard. Here you go!" The doctor pulled a toy from a drawer. "What's this, laddie?" He held up a colorful rattle. Lights blinked as he shook it. Musical notes played. He handed it to the baby. The baby stared in wonder. Shook the toy. Cooed. "There. All better now, eh?"

"Thank you, Carson. Wherever did you get that?"

"Och, I use it when Rodney needs to be distracted." They laughed.

"You see, Johnny? Everything's fine now, and Uncle Carson gave you a present for being such a brave boy. Look! Look!" She pointed out the colors. The baby shook it again. Gurgled at the music. Exclaimed, pain forgotten, secure in his mother's arms. On her lap.

"I assume you want a complete work-up?"

"Yes, please. Carson, I know this will sound crazy...but John, John is convinced. Is it possible that Johnny could sense other ATA gene carriers?"

"Sense? What do you mean, Moira? Genes can't be sensed."

"I know. But John swears that Johnny reacts differently to people if they have the gene or not. He loves people who have it, but goes all quiet if they don't."

"That's probably because most of the people he knows best happen to have the gene," the doctor reasoned.

"That's what I said. But John said he even does it with people he doesn't know well. And John says he, somehow he knew the attack was coming. He burst into tears before that creature came through the 'Gate."

"Moira, I'm certain that was just a coincidence. He can't sense the Wraith. He has no Wraith DNA in him, like Teyla does."

"I know...but...unless John...John had the retro-virus and that thing in my foot...we've both carried Wraith DNA at one point."

"True, and you both are clear of it. Were clear of it long before Johnny was even conceived. The only thing wee Sheppard has that could be considered unusual is the double ATA gene. But even that wouldn't enable him to sense the gene in others, or to sense the Wraith."

She sighed. "I know...it's just...he...he's so strong in the gene, Carson! Who knows what that means, will mean later in his life. And the Ancients...they expunged records of such things. Why? What are they hiding?"

"Look, I'll do a full work-up and a complete genetic analysis of wee Sheppard's DNA. And I will check the database again to see if there are any references to this kind of thing. To any of this. I don't know why the Ancients would delete those records. It doesn't make sense to me either, Moira, but I can assure you that your son is fine."

"Thank you, Carson. There must be something! His attraction to Ancient tech, his attraction to other gene carriers...he can't be the first to..." She paused. Startling thoughts hitting her.

"First to what? My son is the first to what?" John asked, joining them. The baby turned, looking up at the towering figure of his father.

"Gaga! Gaga goo!"

"Dada," John corrected, gaze narrowing. "Why is my son wearing a bandage?" He squatted next to Moira, touched the baby's arm. As if remembering the baby pouted, lower lip extended. He sniffed. "What hurt you, son?" He glared at the doctor. "Carson!" he barked.

"John!" Moira scolded. "Oh knock it off, Johnny! You are fine." She pushed at his lower lip, tickled his chin to make him smile. "Honestly, you are so like your father! Stop showboating for daddy!"

John stood. Folded his arms across his chest. Stance immovable. "Carson?" he inquired mildly.

"I just too a wee blood sample. It was Moira's idea."

"Moira?" John's gaze swung to her.

"He's fine, John. In perfect health."

John ruffled the baby's hair, causing the infant to frown. "He better be. Let's go. You can fill me in later. On the way."

She stood. "Oh! Carson, do you want this back?" She held out the rattle. The baby reached for it, whimpering a protest.

"No. Let wee Sheppard keep it. I can find another toy for Rodney."

"I'm sure you're the favorite uncle again."

"Cacacaca," the baby attempted, smile on his face as he clumsily took the rattle.

"Oh come on! Now he's trying to say Carson?" John complained, eliciting laughter. He touched the baby's arm. "When are you going to say dada, buddy?"

"Gaga goo!" Carson and Moira laughed as John sighed.

John moved to leave. Moira followed, but stopped suddenly. "John!" she exclaimed.

He turned to her, raising a brow at her tone. "Moira?"

"John...of course!"

"Of course what, Moira" he asked. Exchanging a puzzled look with the doctor.

"I think I know why we are so attracted to each other," she announced, completely serious.


	7. Chapter 7

The Teratogenic Effect7

John tried not to laugh. Amused at her utter sincerity, her seriousness. Turned on by it as well. He exchanged a glance with Carson who appeared equally amused. John smirked. "Yeah, I think we figured that out, Moira, obviously." He indicated the baby in her arms.

"No! I'm serious, John! Apart from the obvious, I mean! Apart from falling in love!"

"I know the answer to this, doctor. You think I am impossibly gorgeous and I can't get enough of that pert little–"

"John!" she scolded as Carson laughed. "No! It's the gene. Think about it, John! The way we were, the way we are...the escalating passion."

John raised a brow. "You mean the sex?"

'Yes. No! Yes, but not all of it." She stepped closer, guided him to a more private corner. The baby prattled. "John, you remember how, how intense it was. Is. The escalating, exuberant sex. We both felt it. The irresistible attraction to each other. What if the ATA gene played a part in that? Subliminally, of course. Drawing us together to produce a stronger ATA gene carrier. Johnny," she clarified needlessly.

John stared. "You mean the sex," he repeated.

"Yes. No! John, you–"

"No." He frowned. "It has nothing to do with the damn gene. You. Me. Johnny. You really think all that exuberance and passion was nothing more than a fucking gene?"

"No! Of course not! I meant on a subconscious level. It makes sense. If what you say is true, that Johnny can somehow sense the gene in others how do we know that we couldn't do the same, except in a way we weren't even aware of? To produce stronger ATA carriers, like Johnny who would..." She broke off as another thought surfaced. "Tell me, out of all your lots some women how many had the gene?"

"Moira!" he snapped, annoyed. "Enough! This is fucking ridiculous!" He began to leave the infirmary

She followed, prattling baby in her arms. "John! Please! This is important! John!" She caught up with him, walked beside him. "Please, I'm sorry, I don't mean to upset you but I need to know. Please. How many?"

He glowered, eyed her. Eyed his son who had quieted. Big blue eyes solemn. He drew them to their quarters. Entered. Finally answered. "A few. Some. Hell, I don't know. It's not like I ever asked. It wasn't in my criteria." He sat on the bed, watched her set the baby into his playpen.

"But you knew later, right? One way or another." She turned to view him. "I need you to think on this, John. Those particular women. The attraction. The sex was more, more intense, wasn't it? Don't you worry, sweetie, I won't be upset." She waited.

John sulked, trying not to squirm under her almost dispassionate gaze. He felt like a specimen under the microscope. Hated that feeling. He considered, glancing at his son who was crawling around the playpen, babbling. He licked his lips. "Yes."

"But you still broke up with them. You didn't fall for them. You didn't feel the compulsive need to stay with them, to mate with them. Until you met me. And I bet, I just bet that I have the stronger gene. Stronger than those other women had..." She began to pace, voice serious. "Of course this was all subliminal, we weren't even aware of it because we fell so in love, connected on such an intimate level. Not just the sex but all of the rest of it. You know, John, it only makes sense. To produce stronger ATA carriers. A stronger gene for the functioning of the city, for it's very survival. But why make the city like that? Why create a hierarchy of your society like that and prevent half of the population from ever being able to run the city's more complicated functions? Why create a deliberate means to ostracize half of the galaxy? Why base your society on genetic inheritance? And the gene breeding would only work sometimes, unless they found a way to breed for it, but then what about Johnny and his double? I don't know if he is stronger than you, but he..." She broke off again, staring at nothing, thinking.

John eyed his son who was pulling himself to his feet to awkwardly stand. To grin at his father. He started to climb, gurgling. John stood and caught the baby before he fell. Swung him high to make the infant giggle.

Moira watched them. "John?"

"Whatever, baby. You lost me at genetic inheritance."

"But you do see it, right? I mean–"

"No. I don't." He bounced the baby on his lap as he sat on the bed again. "You didn't believe me when I told you junior here could sense the gene, and now you do?"

"Yes. No. Maybe. I don't know. If you are right then the implications are–"

"Nothing. Because it still doesn't mean it affected us. Because our genes are weaker than his, right?"

"Maybe...yes...at least mine is. Maybe not yours, I don't know."

"Moira, no gene is determining my life! It's not telling me who to fuck or who to marry and it sure as hell is not telling me who to impregnate."

"Okay, John, I just–"

"No!" He stood, baby balanced at his shoulder. "You are not going to reduce what we have to some fucking gene, nor is my son a scientific curiosity!"

"Of course not, John. I just meant–"

"No, Moira!" He strode to her. "Not even on a subliminal level, got it? I love you. You love me. We caused the passion, the exuberance, the escalation. We produced Johnny. Us! No fucking gene controls my actions or my feelings, or yours. Got it?" The baby started to fuss.

"Okay, John," she soothed, baffled by his vehemence. She touched his arm, kissed him. Kissed the baby. "I'm sorry. You're right. Of course it was us, our love, our passion. Our own exuberance."

"Not even on a subliminal level, Moy," he insisted, somewhat mollified. "Okay?"

"Okay, John." She kissed him again. "You–"

"Here." He handed her the baby. "I've got work to do before we leave tomorrow. You drop this now. All of it, except the part pertaining to Johnny's sensing the gene and the Wraith." He eyed her sternly. Eyed his son. Abruptly left.

Moira sighed. Kissed the baby. "Johnny, there's something there. I know it. You even know it. We'll just have to make your father see it too."

John was staring at a report, but his mind kept revolving over his wife's words. Her questions about the Ancients. Her assertions over the gene. About his lots some women. About their own relationship. About Johnny. He scowled, fingers tapping on the table. Considering her words again. He knew she only meant it as a subliminal, subconscious attraction of which they were not even aware, having nothing to do with how they felt about each other. The passion and the trust. The darkness of their respective pasts. He thought about the other women. Which ones had in fact had the gene. Recalling the brief relationships, the sex.

"I hear you are going to Earth so I composed a short supply list of...oh oh..." Rodney hesitated, seeing John's pensive, brooding expression. Fingers drumming on the table. "Here." Rodney slid a pad to him.

John broke from his thoughts. "Huh? Oh." He eyed the pad. Quirked a brow. "Short list?"

"Well, the first one was three pages long," Rodney admitted. Took a seat. "So...what is it? You looked deep in thought."

"Let me ask you something, Rodney. Does Katie have the ATA gene?"

"Huh?" Rodney considered. "No. She doesn't. Why?"

"No reason."

"No reason? What's this about, John?"

John hesitated. "But you don't have the gene naturally. You had the shot."

"Yes, but it is every bit as effective and functional as yours!" he snapped, defensive. Eyed his friend. The sullen expression. " John, what is this about?"

"Let me ask you something," he repeated. "Why would the Ancients construct this city, construct their very society around a fucking gene?"

Rodney blinked, shrugged. "Who knows? Hubris? Control of the galaxy and the societies they propagated out here? Defense of the city and their society from the Wraith?"

"Even in the beginning when there were no Wraith?"

"Well, yes, I...oh. That's an interesting point. They must have instituted that as a result of the Wraith. To prevent any incursions."

"But how did they know? I mean how did they know how to do that? And how did they know the Wraith would develop or evolve, as Moira would say, into such a dire threat not only to them but to the entire galaxy? Why didn't they prevent that from happening in the first place?"

"Who knows? Hubris? Maybe by then there were already experiencing problems with resources. Maybe a dilution of the gene already. Maybe they couldn't produce anyone like Johnny any more. Maybe the genetic lines were already weakening and they couldn't find a way to strengthen them or to artificially produce it like we did."

"Huh."

"The Ancients were more advanced but they didn't know everything, John. They made mistakes just like every society does. Every culture. The Wraith. Talk about a colossal mistake on a galactic scale! Not to mention the stealing of populations to seed this galaxy with life. Only to have those societies repressed and unable to advance beyond the most primitive technological developments. Because of the Wraith. And then there's that stupid policy of non-interference. Not even helping the very people they endangered by their own experiments."

"Yeah, there's that," John agreed. "That pisses me off."

"Me too." Rodney shrugged. "So what are you asking about? The gene? Is there something wrong with the kid?"

"No, he's fine. No, nothing to do with him. Moira was just expostulating about it and it got me wondering about it as well."

"You mean the likelihood of producing another kid with a double?"

John blinked. "Um, no. But now that you mention it...yeah. Or anyone producing another one like that."

"Oh." Rodney blinked. "You meant if Katie and I...whoa, whoa, we're not even close to that yet!" The scientist held up his hands as if to avoid an attack.

John smiled at his friend's consternation. "Are you sure? Johnny could use a playmate, you know. And I would be a terrific uncle."

"What?" Rodney exclaimed, backing away from the table in genuine shock. "Whoa, whoa, let's just slow this down, all right? I told you, we're not even close to any of that, not even close to even approaching a, a, an engagement...not even close to have any consecutive dates, not even close to having, having, having..." he spluttered.

John laughed, stood. "Easy, Rodney, don't have a heart attack, okay? I was just saying, is all." He snatched the pad off the table. "But if you are genetically disposed towards any woman who has the gene I think you should act now, because, face it, Rodney, you're not getting any younger. See ya."

"What? John...you...oh ha ha! John! Genetically...what?" Rodney floundered, staring after him.


	8. Chapter 8

The Teratogenic Effect8

Moira was sitting on the floor, fingers typing away on a data pad. The baby was crawling near her, exploring. Prattling. Dragging a toy with him as he discovered a whole new, wider world on the floor. Moira consulted her notes, checked on her son's progress, then resumed typing. Collating all of the data.

She paused. Rubbed her eyes. Genetic spirals dancing on her eyelids. Genetic codes jumbling in her brain. Proteins and DNA. Messenger RNA and the Hoffan serum. The enzyme and the ATA gene. Human. Insect. Wraith. A jumble of mutations and evolution and experimentation that was giving her a headache, but at least distracted her from memories of the past. Memories of James. His horrible murder. Her guilt over it.

She stood. Moved to a briefcase and undid the lock. Eyed the samples she had stored in there. She locked it again, stowed it among other things. Knowing it was against the rules, against the protocols but also knowing the professor would need more than data. He would need actual samples for his own comparisons to confirm her findings. She looked at the floor.

The baby was crawling, little arms and legs moving more steadily as he gained momentum. He paused, staring round. Saw his mother and smiled. "Mama! Mama goo!"

She smiled. "Yes, darling, just be careful." She returned, sat on the floor. Compiled more data, pushing aside memories of the past that lingered, lingered. Wanting to see the professor again yet dreading it. Hearing her son's voice she looked over as he crawled towards the door. "Careful, Johnny," she cautioned, resuming her work. Looked over again as he exclaimed in wonder.

The door opened and John caught himself before he trampled his son. "Whoa, there, captain!"

"Gaga! Gaga goo!" the baby cried, staring up in awe.

"Dada, captain." He lifted the child, closed the door. "Moira? What the hell are you–"

"His learning to crawl, John. It's either this or letting him climb out of the playpen where he could fall." She resumed her work.

John carried the baby to her. Set him down. "Oh. Good point, I guess." He stepped to the table, to the fridge behind it.

Moira consulted her notes, typed. Looked up to see the baby crawling along. "He's heading your way, John."

John smiled. "Want a beer, buddy?" He scooped the child up under one arm, gently swinging him. The baby laughed merrily. John laughed, carried him back to Moira. Set him down. Stood watching her, drinking his beer. The baby touched her thigh, prattled. Suddenly sat on his bottom, staring round the room. The huge expanse was daunting, but with his parents near he was reassured.

Moira felt John's gaze but didn't look away from her data pad. "What?"

"Nothing."

She sighed, closed the pad. Hearing his tone. "I've collated all pertinent data. The DNA comparisons, the scans of the tissues, the creature, the cross-comparisons of the species and even going back to our earlier samples to see if there are any common denominators." She gathered her notes and the pad, set them onto the table. Gathered the baby to her arms as he gurgled softly. She kissed him, turned to her husband. "So?"

"So?" he echoed. He was looking at the playpen now. "I bet I could extend the height on this without having to buy a new one."

"John, look. I know you are pissed at me, but you really don't need to be. I didn't mean to minimize our feelings for each other."

"I know. And I'm not pissed." He circled the playpen, drinking. "If I added more netting I could reinforce each side and make it so Johnny couldn't reach the top."

"You know? And you're not pissed? Look, John, I know you don't like all this ATA talk but it is relevant when it comes to Johnny. When it comes to the whole city, really. You can't deny that. You can't, not with your own strong gene."

"I know," he repeated.

She sighed. "Fine." She carried the baby into the nursery. Settled him into his crib. Turned on the mobile. The baby cooed, watching the various aircraft turning round and round over him. The music softly playing. Moira kissed the infant, caressed his little arm. "There now, darling. Take your nap. Soon you will be on the Daedalus and you love that, don't you?" She stood watching him fall asleep. Content. Secure. Toy plane in his grasp. She caressed his rosy cheek. Tried to smooth down his wayward dark brown hair.

"You think there's more to it," John stated, suddenly behind her. Startling her as she nearly jumped, not having heard his approach. "More to him. To us. To the Ancients, even. To the Ancients and this gene. Developing it as a defense against the Wraith?"

"Maybe. But why when the Wraith are incapable of having that gene, and consequently incapable of operating anything here? Except for the hybrids in that alternate reality," she mused. Eyes on her son. "And why erase all mention of ones like Johnny?"

"Who knows? Hubris? Something went wrong? Baldy said they were persecuted because of what they became. What do you think they became?"

Moira shrugged, an awkward movement in his arms. "I have no idea but we have to find out, John. Were they too powerful? Or did something go wrong with them?" Her voice fell softly, colored by worry as she gazed upon the baby.

"Nothing will go wrong with Johnny, I promise you," he said, voice low. Reassuring. "Whatever happened maybe it was too late because of the war to pursue?" John mused, gaze also on his son. "God this science stuff gives me a headache. For an advanced civilization they seem to have made quite a few mistakes. Colossal ones."

"Yes...but every society does that. Especially advanced ones. We're missing something important. Something to explain all of this. How all of this came to be. I just can't see it yet. But it's there, John, I know it is." She sighed.

"I see."

"Do you?" She turned to him. "Do you really?"

"Don't deflect your own worries onto this, Moira. Or onto him. Going back there, to that museum won't be easy for you, but if you are going you can't hide behind this. You can't hide behind the science or concern over our son."

"I know. One thing has nothing to do with the other!" She pushed past him. He followed her, caught her arm. Spun her round to face him.

"Really? Now who's deflecting, huh? I think we should talk about this now. In private. Before we are on the Daedalus. Before we reach Earth. Before you take one step into that museum."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Really? Moira, don't bullshit me."

"John, please! I don't want to talk about it!" She freed herself, moved to the table. Felt tears. "I can't. Okay? You can understand that, can't you?"

"I can, but I can't let this go. It could compromise the mission."

"What?" She whirled. "If I have a breakdown or lose it or unable to face it? I'm sorry, colonel! I'll try not to compromise the damn mission!"

"Damn it, Moira, can't you see I'm concerned about you! You! I need to know what you're up against! What I'm up against! Besides the memory of a murdered fiancé!"

She looked away, turned away from him. "Don't." One word. One whisper. Full of emotion.

John cursed inwardly. Moved to her. Placed his hands on her shoulders. "I'm sorry, Moy. I don't mean to push. I know how hateful that is. I do. Do we need to get shit-faced drunk first? You said that once, remember? You said we needed to get shit-faced drunk to tell our deepest and darkest. I think you wanted to but I didn't. To be honest I still don't. But if you need to talk about it, about what happened, well..."

"No." She turned to him. Hugged him tightly.

His arms encircled her. He kissed her brow. "Sweetheart?"

"No, John. Just...just hold me. Be with me."

"Okay. I can do that." He caressed her back. She drew back to catch his mouth with hers. Kiss after kiss. Her fingers ran along his chest, down suddenly to his belt.

She paused, uncertain. Wanting him with an almost desperate need, a desperate hunger to escape. To lose herself in his love, his passion. In sex. "John?"

He kissed along her throat. "If that's what you need, baby, I am more than willing to oblige."

"No...I..." She sighed. Hugged him again. "I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

"Okay, Moy," he soothed. "But if there's a problem I need to know." He kissed her brow. Hands sliding down to gently grasp her rear. "So...right now? Or tonight? Or both?"

She smiled. "Both? I don't think we have time, colonel. We need to get ready for this trip. Pack all of Johnny's things that he'll need."

"The captain can do his own packing. It's about time he pulled his own weight around here," John joked, drew back from her. Touched her cheek. "My Moira. Tonight, then. Sex will make it all better, baby, I promise." He sighed. "I suppose you'll enforce the no sex rule on the Daedalus?"

"Sorry, but yes, afraid so, sweetie. Especially with Johnny in the same cabin."

"Damn it," he mourned. "Eighteen days, Moira. Maybe I can sneak us into an X-302 again."

"Hilarious, John. I'll go through his stuff. See what we need to pack for him." She kissed him, stepped out of his embrace and into the nursery.

John sighed. Circled the table, tempted to get another beer but refrained. Understanding her reluctance all too well. Hating to push but needing to push. Not only for the mission but for her. He moved to the threshold between the two rooms, stood watching.

Moira was packing a small case with brisk efficiency. Folding tiny shirts, tiny pants. Little sleepers. A jacket. A blanket. A few toys. Dozens of diapers. A tiny hat. A tiny pair of shoes. More clothing. A pacifier. She moved back and forth in the room, pausing now and again to look at the baby as he slept. She froze suddenly, whirled. "John! What the hell are you doing?"

He shrugged, lounging in the doorway. "Nothing."

"Well, that's helpful!" she snapped. Turned to continue.

John watched her. "You don't have to pack for him yet. We have hours before we leave, Moira. Moira. Moira!"

She ignored him, shut the case. Opened it and placed in another stuffed toy. Shut it, her back to her husband. "Fine. I have to make sure I don't forget anything."

"Moira."

"I have to make sure he has his plane plane. He needs his plane plane, John. You know that is his favorite toy. And his blue blanket, he always sleeps with that."

"Moira," he said quietly, nearing her.

"And formula! We have to make sure we have enough formula and if we can store it in the ship's mess hall. It has to be refrigerated, John, and we have to be able to heat it up and we have to be able to sterilize his bottles and we–"

John caught her, spun her to him and kissed her. A long, savoring kiss cutting off her rising voice, her anxiety, her escalating emotion. He kept kissing her, guiding her to the bed next to the crib. Easing her onto it, onto her back. Moving over her, onto her. Ignoring her protests, her feeble attempts to push him off her. His mouth entwining with hers as his body pinned hers.

Moira finally broke from his mouth, took a breath. "John!"

"Easy, baby. Everything will be fine. Calm down, Moira."

"You...you..." She paused, tears in her eyes. Touched his chest.

"I love you, Moira. You can tell me anything, at any time. We'll get through this, I promise. Now just relax, sweetheart. I'm not leaving your side, okay?"

"Okay," she whispered. Bit her lower lip.

John smiled. "My Moira...don't you worry. We have the rest of the day and tonight to pack. To make sure we have everything that Johnny will need. Then eighteen days on the Daedalus to go over all of this science stuff. Just don't blind me with science, okay?"

"Okay, John," she smiled, relaxing.

"Okay. Simplify, Moira. I'm no biologist."

"Okay, John."

"Okay." He kissed her, slid off her and moved to his feet. "Tonight, baby, we will find the very best way to relax and make things right. Now take your time and pack for Johnny. I need to go over some stuff in the city before we leave. We'll have a quiet dinner together and spend some time with Johnny. Just the three of us, Moira. Our little circle. Sound like a plan?"

She sat. "Yes, John. Thank you. I just...I..."

"You'll be fine, sweetheart. I'm right here. And so is Johnny." He moved to the threshold, turned back to her. "Now move that pert little ass, would you?"

She laughed, stood. "Yes, sir! As ordered, colonel."


	9. Chapter 9

The Teratogenic Effect9

Moira stood near the crib. Stood watching as the baby slept. Stared at his peaceful face. Rosy cheeks. Little mouth forming an "o" shape. Dark hair mussed. His body clad in a blue sleeper embroidered with teddy bears. Little hands curled around his plane plane. She smiled, hands on the crib's railing. She touched the mattress. Felt the gentle vibration of the sound machine lulling the infant to sleep. Heard its quiescent hum.

She heard John in the other room. Quiet motions as he packed. A zipper. A soft thud as a bag was dropped to the floor. She watched the baby. He snorted, sniffled as he slept. Little arms moving slightly. Little legs moving as if he was dreaming of crawling.

John entered the nursery. Saw Moira standing watching over their son. The city lights played on her loose hair, over her curves still clad in the green and brown BDUs. He moved to her. Slid his arms around her waist. Looked over her shoulder at his son. "Is he out?"

"Like a light," she whispered. Leaning into the long solidness of his body. "All those games of plane ride wore him out."

"Good. That was my cunning plan," he informed. "Let's go to bed." He freed her, caught her hand and drew her to their room.

"John...I don't want to talk about it," she stated firmly as he started to undress.

"Fine."

"I'm serious, John."

"I said fine, Moy. Let's go to bed."

She watched him sit to remove his boots. His socks. He stood to undo his belt. Undo his pants. Unzip them. Pull them off to reveal his boxer shorts. Blue and white stripes that made her smile. He turned suddenly, slid clad in his black t-shirt. "What?"

"Nothing."

He eyed her, raised a brow. Suspicious. "Then get undressed, sweetheart. Or do you plan to just stand there and ogle me all night?"

"I don't know. I do enjoy ogling you, sweetie."

"Hilarious, Moira." He pulled off his t-shirt, pulled back the covers on the bed. Muscles flexing. He got into the bed. Sighed happily. "Ah. I will miss this bed. Those damn cots on the Daedalus are so uncomfortable. Barely fitting one person, let alone two. Hmm...I wonder how comfortable our hotel bed will be."

She smiled. "It's always about the bed, isn't it, John?"

"Hell yes, baby. The bed determines everything." He watched her as she sat, pulled off her shoes.

"How so?" she asked, standing. Moving to the dresser. Pulled out a nightshirt. She entered the bathroom, much to John's disappointment.

John sighed. "Comfort. Strategy. Positioning. Sometimes it's all about the twenty, baby."

She peered round the half-closed door. "So size does matter, colonel?"

He quietly laughed. "Yes, doctor. Sometimes." He stretched languidly. Impatiently. "Hurry up, Moy, or I will be forced to start without you."

"We can't have that, sweetie." She emerged, clad in a pale green nightshirt. She turned off the lights, plunging the room into darkness. The city lights glimmered at the window. She slipped into bed next to him, but sat. "John."

"Oh oh," he muttered. "What?" he asked, gaze roving over her body.

"It's probably best I speak to the professor alone, at first. About all of the science stuff. I know, I know not to reveal too much intel. Your presence might hamper him."

"Because I'm military?"

"Yes," she said, but smiled briefly at the other reason.

He touched her arm. "But I'll be in civvies, baby."

She met his gaze. Leaned close to kiss him. Slid down into the sheets to cuddle against him. "True...but you will still be military."

"You mean all Alpha male?" he asked smugly, catching her. He rolled them so she was beneath him. Her body soft, yielding to his.

"Yes," she answered. Sighed pleasantly as he kissed down her throat, tugging at the nightshirt. She shifted under him. "Oh John..."

"Oh Moira...okay. Whatever you want, baby. Whatever you think is best. You're taking point on this one. I can show junior the dinosaurs." He kissed her. Lifted up to yank up the nightshirt. "Anything else, baby? Oh fuck..." he muttered as she caught hold of him. Fingers stroking, squeezing as he was becoming stiff.

"No, sweetie. Now ssh...just love me, John...just love me all night. I want to drown in love and sex and sex, John. Oh John, John..." she murmured as he slid down her body. Hands wandering. Mouth wandering. He ran soft kisses up her thigh, fingers gliding up her hips, between her legs.

"As ordered, baby," he said along her skin. Nibbling to make her squirm, whimper. Gasp as his slow seductions relaxed, excited her. Took her away from all worries, all anxieties, all of the darkness lurking in her memory.

John stirred. Rolled. Reached. Empty blankets met his fingers. He opened his eyes. Listened. No sounds from the nursery. He scanned the room. "Moy?" He sat. "Moira?" Silence. He got out of the bed. Staring round, wondering where she had gone. Recalling the passionate sex before they had fallen asleep, tangled with each other.

He pulled on his shorts. Entered the nursery, crossed to the crib. The baby was asleep. Making little chuffing sounds. John smiled, touched the infant's arm. "Where's your mother, captain?" He stood there a moment, debating. Knew he couldn't go searching for her without taking his son with him, and was loath to disturb the sleeping infant. Frowning he returned to the other room. Sat on the bed. Waiting.

Moira rubbed her eyes. Sat in the bio lab. In the dim circle of the one light as she went over the data yet again. She rubbed her arms, feeling a chill, although clad in her green t-shirt and a pair of jeans. She wanted to be certain she had all of the data. Wanted yet another distraction from the past lurking in her mind. The sex had been wonderful, but once John had fallen asleep she had been wide awake. Unable to relax as her mind turned once more to the past.

To the memory of that last expedition. To wondering how to approach the professor. To entering the museum. To unlocking things long buried.

She sighed. Closed the data pad. Rubbed her eyes again. Turned hearing a noise. Suddenly conscious of her lack of underwear, her messy hair. Expecting John she could only stare as Evan entered the room, paused seeing her.

"Oh. Moira. I saw a light."

Moira moved to her feet, pulling the data pad to hold in front of her. "I was working."

"At two in the morning?" Evan asked, nearing her. His gaze moving over her messy appearance.

She felt a blush on her face. As if Evan could see where John's hands had wandered. Where John's mouth had wandered. Where John's cock had penetrated repeatedly to their mutual satisfaction. "Um, yes. Work before I go to, to Earth."

"Oh. At two in the morning?" he repeated, glancing past her to see the microscope.

"Yes. Johnny's asleep."

"Oh. Well...I just had to check since no one is supposed to be down here now." He took a few steps closer to her. "Is everything all right, Moira?"

"Yes. I just had to finish this while both Johns are asleep," she explained. She flicked off the light, headed for the doorway. "I better get back. If John wakes up and I'm not there he won't be very happy."

"Moira, wait." Evan caught her arm, stopping her. Freed her arm as she turned to him. "Look, I know things are rather, um, weird between us right now. I mean we seem to be avoiding each other. But we can't do that forever. I mean we both live here and the city is awfully small."

"What are you saying, Evan?" she asked, frowning. "I really don't have time for this right now."

"You don't? But you have time to work at two in the morning? Come on, Moira, I know you better than that. You're running from something. We used to talk to each other, remember?"

"Yes...but I talk to John now."

"Do you? And that's why you're here now?" Evan asked, shaking his head.

"I told you, I had work to finish and I can only do that when both Johns are asleep. Besides, Evan, you're the one who ruined all of that."

"Me?" At her stare he sighed. "Yes, you're right, Moira. I'm sorry. About all of that, I truly am. I know things have changed, and I know we can never go back to the way we were before. The colonel won't allow that."

"It's nothing to do with John. It's because of you, Evan. Because you changed. In the way you saw me, in the way you see me now. I have to get back, excuse me." She moved past him, swiftly down the hallway. Increasing her stride hearing him pursuing her.

"Moira! Wait! I know that. We can move past that, can't we? I mean if we try to move past it. If you would listen to me and not let the colonel dictate your–"

"No!" She whirled, standing at her door. "I can't do this now, Evan, all right? I can't! Stop pushing me! All of you men, all you do is push me! And the colonel doesn't dictate anything to me! He has nothing to do with any of this! You–" The door opened and she froze.

John stood behind her. "Is there a problem? If you get any louder you will awaken Johnny and then you will have a problem with me. Major?"

"No, sir. Goodnight, sir."

Moira watched him leave. She turned, pushed past John and moved to the table. "Don't! I am so tired of you men interrogating me! Just leave me alone! All right? I don't want to talk about it, about any of it! If you must know I was finishing up some work!" She set the data pad on the table, moved to the bed and stripped off her clothes.

John watched her, gaze roving over her naked form before she pulled on the nightshirt to cover herself. She got into the bed, yanked the blankets over her. He crossed the room. Got into the bed beside her. Spooned against her as she lay on her side, her back to him. His arm encircling her. He kissed her cheek. "Go to sleep, Moy."

"Well?" She waited, tensing. "That's it? Go to sleep, Moy? No interrogation? No questions over Evan and what he wanted with me? No Alpha male posturing? No expressions of control or needing to know every little thing? No fucking territorial behavior?"

"No. If something had happened you would tell me. Go to sleep, sweetheart."

She caught his hand at her waist, surprised. Suspicious. She waited, but he was silent. Her fingers played along his hand. Stroked. "John?"

"Sleep, baby. Unless you want to have sex."

She smiled. "No...we should sleep. Thank you, John. I just...I don't need all of that crap on top of all of the other crap right now. Okay?"

"Okay, Moira. Whatever you need or don't need. Relax."

"He...he just wanted to talk. To try to, to repair our friendship," she found herself saying, as if needing to tell him despite herself. "I just...I can't handle that right now, John, not with the upcoming mission and Johnny and the science and the–"

"Okay, Moira. Whatever you can handle or can't. I'm here."

She turned to him. His eyes were closed. "John?" She touched his bare chest. The dog tags. Cool silver metal along his dark, coarse chest hair. "John?" she repeated. "I wouldn't insist that we go, that I go if it wasn't extremely important. If it's possible that what I think is going on is...going on. That these mutations, this devolution is being deliberately created by someone. And we need to find out why, John. And, and how, because this is more advanced than anything we are remotely capable of at the moment, only in theory but not in practice and–"

"Fine, Moira," he said, interrupting. He opened his eyes, met her anxious gaze. Kissed her. Drew her close. "Don't you worry."

She smiled. Kissed him, snuggling. "I love you, John. And I'll try not to blind you with science."

"Thank you for that, sweetheart. Now go to sleep. You'll have eighteen days on the Daedalus to refine your theories and your arguments. Eighteen days to ramble on and on about it." He sighed, groaned to tease her. Closed his eyes. "Maybe we can get separate cabins."

"John!" She hit his chest. He softly laughed. "I'll try to dial it down."

"Thank you. Now go to sleep or I will spank that pert little ass, baby."

She giggled. Suddenly slid on top of him. Kissing him, circled his ear and bit. Hard.

"OW!" he complained, eyes flying open. "Moira?"

She smiled slyly, straddled him as she sat. Ran her nails along his bare chest. "Hmm...colonel...how about a little rough sex before we have to behave? Can you get it up for some rough sex, sweetie? Or do I need to get the manacles? Or the caramel?"

He grinned. Pulled her abruptly down to him to make her squeal as he rolled them so she was under him. "Get both, baby! Kinky it is. You better hold on tight, baby."

She laughed. "Bring it, sweetie."


End file.
